The Stoneway Path
by SkoripiElda
Summary: A story following Luke Stoneway on his path to... greatness? (The first chapter does not actually follow Luke, merely sets the scene)
1. 0: Introduction

Pokémon does not belong to me, I make no money from this. Original characters are mine, I make no money from them either.

Oo===0===oO

Do you know what is is, when a country goes Dark? It's not an official term. The word seeped into use, spreading from some hack who got five seconds of air on local TV, until everyone was whispering it in their houses and muttering it in the streets.

When a country goes dark, all communications in and out cease, virtually overnight. Phone lines are cut or rerouted. Journalists who dare step foot over the border, in the vain hope of finding the scoop that will make them big, never come back, or if they do they come back with nothing. Military drones are shot down. No one is allowed in, or out.

When the first Country went Dark, the world didn't really know how to cope. Yes, oil and coal were running low, but nothing to panic over. Nothing to imprison your population for, nothing to cause an entire nation to rise up against their neighbours with guns, knives and stones for.

Everyone was sent reeling by the ferocity of the attack. The barbaric nature of the pictures recovered. Huge tracts of land left abandoned and wasted, simply for another year's supply of power.

Imagine the surprise when another country dropped off the grid shortly afterwards. When we finally forced access, we found an entire government had been destroyed in the vain hope that the rich had been stockpiling.

Other counties started to fear their people. Some tried to appease them by openly revealing the dire power situation. Others tried to cover it up. By the end of the decade, all were arming themselves for war.

It was quite simple, really. If your neighbour had something you didn't, you marched over there, and you took it. Civility was gone. Peace was gone. There was the ever present danger that you'd wake up, drowning in smoke as a marauding band of looters ignited your house for refusing to pay the crime lord's taxes.

Some say that we were the worst. Back then, we thought so too. Our own people were repressed, enslaved, used. There were whispers that the underworld lords and ladies were financed by the institution that swore to protect us as a cheap method of crowd control.

The only way out was to join the army, to serve the new Federation. You can imagine how we reacted. We were told that we would be helping to save our families. I don't see what part of saving or families comes under murder. And that was just me. Others did worse things. On orders or for pleasure.

I was promoted to Sergeant. Sergeant Stoneway. I made a token effort to control the men under my watch, but they were bored. Restless. They deserved their fun. At least, that's what I told myself.

In the end, we thought we'd won. We had marched, carrying the flag of the Federation to the mountains and the sea, and we wept tears of joy, for the Federation had brought the entire world, or what we had of it, under it's wings of liberty. We knew there was more land out there, of course, but it was so far across the ocean that it was not feasible to leave, with the Federation only just holding on to it's new and widespread power, and we wept again for those poor souls we were unable to rescue.

We turned with heavy hearts and marched back and forth across the breadth of an empire, squashing rebellion and toppling those who were trying to bring us down. To the south, we burned the earth to lock off those who were trying to poison our hearts and minds, and to the north, we rampaged and butchered those who tried to poison our bodies. And when Supreme President Parkson's reach was secure, when the decade of infighting and civil war finally come to it's end, we cheered, for finally, we could be at peace. Finally, the surviving world was united.

Once again, we turned our gaze to the sea. We knew that there where other lands out there, lands we had not spread the Federation to. People that deserved to feel our warmth. Deserved to feel safe at night. We enlisted the help of towns up and down the coast, and assembled a wooden fleet the likes of which had not been seen for hundreds of years. When word rode in with the go-ahead, we launched across the waves.

When we landed, we pillaged and slaughtered those that stood arrayed against us. If the people would not join the Federation, we would not let them stand. After what must have been the most bitterly violent month of my life, we reached a new town just as it was evacuated. _Good, _we thought, _they're afraid_. But the next town wasn't just empty. It was dangerous. Pitfalls. Mines. Rabid dogs, mad with some plague that we could not fight. The deeper into their territory we marched, the worse the local fauna became. We found out later, much later, that some sort of biological warhead had been unleashed on this side of the pond, with disastrous effects on the wildlife. The virus was meant to be unable to survive outside a host. Be containable.

_Starve them out_, they'd thought. _Create animals that hunt their livestock_.

In the end, containable changed to controllable.

Eventually, when we were attacked in the night by eleven foot cobras whose bite could do anything from freeze your arm solid to send enough electricity through your veins to fry you, we gave the order to retreat.

Bad move.

Turns out the virus, whatever it was, could be carried by humans, undetectable without pre-war medical equipment. And once we hit shore, it spread faster than we could. When the retaliatory strike came, riding beasts capable of taking bullets and firing back with storms of fire and earth, we were unprepared. I don't think it was possible to be prepared. They marched to our capital. They had some sort of weapon far more subtle than we could have imagined. Where they marched, our own people became blank eyed robots. Empty inside, and dead in every way that counts.

We were forced to mow them down, and when their king, their Champion, stepped out from the carnage, tore our leader apart _with his fucking mind_ and demanded our surrender, what choice did we have?

Communications are up. Somehow. Their beasts can generate electricity. Somehow.

Somehow.

It's a word we're all using a lot.

A word we were all using a lot.

The war has been over for years now. I went for a drink to ease my stiff arm, and saw a kid playing with something I knew was quite capable of tearing a man shoulder to groin and filling the remains with acid. It's a lot to get used to. I still have my old Federation flag, hidden under the rug. They say Parkson's son escaped with a squad into the hills. No one knows what they do, but everyone knows there are some mountains you just don't travel to. They remind me of the Dark zones. Just too much trouble.

They even named the monsters, you know? Like pets. Like they weren't the scariest _motherfuckers_ to ever walk the earth. There are kids now who've never seen a real animal. Just these... these...

Do you know what the worst part is? The most terrifying thing? I still have my contacts. Guys who served under me and men I served under. I've heard about scientists working on getting the compression technology that was mere moths too late for the war, fully portable.

When they succeed, then there will be nothing stopping people carrying these monsters anywhere in containers the size of apricots. Monsters so powerful that four men, each armed with less than five managed to bring down our entire defence network in ten minutes. And there'll be nothing stopping a ten year old boy from wandering the world with a herd of these monsters in his pocket.

Oo===0===oO

Reviews are welcome, Flames will be set alight. This chapter is significantly different to how the rest of the story will be, and mostly just sets up background for the world.


	2. 1: Having a Ball

Pokémon does not belong to me, I make no money from this. Original characters are mine, I make no money from them either.

Chapter one: Having a Ball

Oo===I===oO

Grandfather told stories, sometimes, of the shaping of the regions. He talked about a war. A war so great and powerful that it erased all that had gone before it. The story has apparently been passed down for generations, father to son, grandfather to grandson. It always starts the same, but the details change a little each telling.

"More than a thousand years ago..." he'd say, and then set off, in his creaky, weary voice. I knew the story by heart now. And it's a good thing too. Dad was never that interested in stories, and grandfather passed some time ago. He was under the impression that I was about to set off on my journey, and had been filling my head with tales of his days of glory. The funeral had been... interesting, to say the least. Kyu, the old man's Ninetales who'd lost one long ago in battle, had decided it was going to be a cremation, not a burial, and then calmly stepped into the blaze to join his master.

I hadn't left that year. There was too much to do. Grandfathers absence was felt too strongly. And really, was twelve too different to eleven? I'd leave with the next batch.

Then Dad was called into Silph corporation. Better job, more money, but it would require travelling between the regions. He stopped by, now and then, but I couldn't leave. Not when mum needed all the help she could get. With the first bigger pay check, they sat me down together and made me a promise- I'd leave as soon as everything was settled, with a day long stay in the Safari Zone up by Lilycove. Can you imagine how exited I was? There were all sorts of really rare Pokémon in there! I could get anything I wanted! They told me that they'd take me as soon as they could, and I'd be a real trainer. I spent most of a year planning which Pokémon I'd catch. I'd get my entire team there, I thought to myself, and start with six. They'd be the best Pokémon ever.

I always knew I'd have six. What was the point in more?

Then there was those two years where team Magma and Aqua rose to power. They were put down by some girl younger than me in the end. There was brief coverage by the news, then she dropped off the grid, gone to train in Johto or something. They called her a prodigy. I called her lucky. I will admit that may have been tinged with some envy on my part.

Then there was the whole big mystery in Kalos. Some nearly averted worldwide disaster, or discovery of a national treasure, depending on who you asked. Then the new champion was crowned, the youngest in a very long time. Apparently, he was already throwing Kalos' weight around, stepping on a great many league toes.

After that, mum wanted to move to somewhere more out of the way. In the end, she and dad settled on Littleroot town. When that year's collectors went round, I barely noticed. I had kinda given up hope of ever becoming a trainer by that point, and my parents' promise seemed to me, in my childishness, to mean nothing to them. I was thinking about maybe going to study in Unova.

On my seventeenth birthday, six years later than the normal training age, I came downstairs to see both mum and dad in the living room. Dad looked like he'd only just got back, and mum looked years younger with him home again. I smiled at them.

"Happy birthday Luke!" they chorused. Dad's Charizard, Marietta, peered in the window and rumbled approvingly. I grinned at her and walk over to my parents. Mum's smile looked slightly odd, a little bit forced. Dad's, by comparison, looked positively boyish with excitement.

We sat down together for a birthday breakfast, but the conversation was stilted and slightly off. Eventually, dad let his cutlery fall with a clatter. Mum jumped at the sudden noise, then glared at him. He looked towards the clock, then back at her with a questioning eyebrow. With a sigh, she nodded. I was constantly amazed by how much they could communicate. As well as the obvious, an entire sub-conversation always seemed flowed between them as they looked at each other.

Mum walked over to the kitchen counter, and picked up an envelope. It was entirely unremarkable, plain, off white, with my name on the front. Taking it, expecting a cheesy birthday card, perhaps accompanied by a bad rendition of Happy Birthday from a cartoon Magikarp, I slit it open with a finger. The card inside has a heard of Mamoswine on the front, looking sheepish, with a large speech bubble bearing the legend "Whoops, we forgot!"

I looked up at my parents, confused. Today was my birthday, right? Unless this was meant to be some joke I wasn't quite understanding. Dad caught my eye. 'Open it', he mouths.

Flipping the card open, an old piece of paper slid out with a soft rustle, and landed on the carpet. Bending to pick it up, I registered the camouflage print and bold lettering. I froze, my hand hovering millimetres from the ticket, and look up.

"The van leaves in an hour," whispered mum. "it'll take you to Lilycove, and stick around till you've got your Pokémon."

Six years of dreams and wonders all rushed to cram themselves out of my mouth at once, but in the end I just settled for a tight nod. I felt like I was eleven again.

Oo===I===oO

The van was really one of the large helicopters owned by the labs. Not particularly fast, it visited the northern cities twice a year, and gathered up all the kids who wanted to become trainers, bringing them back to Littleroot for the exam in the Birch Labs. Once you'd passed, you were given your licence and sent out into the world. I knew all about it. I'd watched it leave without me enough times to know every contour of it's shiny surface. It felt extremely odd to be inside it for once. The only company I has was the pilot, as kids from Littleroot just stayed in Littleroot until the exam. I wasn't exactly unhappy with this. In a few hours, we'd be making a stop in Fortree and there'd be somewhere between six and thirty noisy, annoying eleven year olds making a racket. I decided to relax while I could.

Actual sleep eluded me. Not just because of the fact I'd only been awake about two hours. Every moment was filled with wondering, researching the Pokémon I could get in the Safari Zone. One day was plenty. The Safari Zone was big, but you didn't need to travel everywhere to see a huge variety of available species. Bug types grew quickly, but plateaued early, and had several common weaknesses. Water types were also easy to find, and their resistances outweighed their weaknesses considerably. Of course, choosing all my team now would just lead to inevitable disappointment, so I try to limit my imaginings to vague "_wouldn't it be nice if"_ and trying to plan my type spread.

I moved on to wondering about the huge explosion that had originated from Kalos again, and the rumour I'd picked up about the rest of the regions getting ready to retaliate if they tried anything. Of course, it wasn't confirmed, but the league had started giving out grants to promising trainers, funding more tournaments, and introducing a weekly stipend to trainers who kept on the move to buy food, with more granted the more badges you had. When we touched down, with a suddenness that belayed the smooth flight, I was shocked to say the least. Time had flown while I'd been thinking. The door hissed open, and the pilot pulled off his headset. Half turning towards me he said

"We're going to be here a few hours, get out, stretch your legs, meet back here at four, okay?"

I nodded, stood up and cracked my back. I hadn't realised how long I'd been sitting still. Stepping out of the sleek vehicle, I looked around with a mix of amazement and bemusement at Fortree City, the City in the trees. Everyone had heard about it, of course, and it was situated on a pretty major route. Unfortunately not many who weren't experienced trainers saw it, as the only real way was to pass over the Ridge, or take a much longer route around to Mt. Pyre.

Of course, I'd have to come back here one day for the Feather Badge. I was looking forward to it already. Winona was tough but fair, according to most. I pulled myself from my musing, and headed to the Pokécentre. It would be as good a place as any to get lunch, and I may be able to get some tips from an experienced trainer.

The doors slid open with a hiss, and I looked around, slightly intimidated. There was one girl with short, dark hair, probably slightly older than me, playing with a Jolteon over by one wall, and a young boy dressed in clothing much to summery for the current weather, thanking the nurse as she passed him back his Pokéballs. After another quick glance, I headed downstairs to the canteen. Pokécenters provided cheep, filling food, with a nice discount if you had a Trainer's Licence. I didn't, yet, so I paid full price for a plate. As I sat to eat, the girl from upstairs came down, grabbed a bowl of something meaty and a bottle of water, and came and sat down across from me. It surprised me, seeing as every other seat was available, but I just passed it off as she felt like some company. She kept quiet though, so I did too.

When she was nearly finished, she lowered the bowl to the seat next to her, and the Jolteon jumped up and started picking out choice pieces. She looked over at me for a few seconds, then asked in a surprisingly soft voice

"I take that you're here for the gym? I don't suppose you want a warm up battle?"

The Jolteon looked up at the mention of battle, its fur bristling, it's eyes bright. Of _course_ she thought I was already a trainer. Why would a seventeen year old be in Fortree if not for a badge? I could feel my cheeks colouring already, and I looked away.

"I'm not..." I broke off, coughing as I inhaled a grain of rice. As if it wasn't bad enough already. I tried again, "I'm not a trainer yet." At her confused look, I hurried on, "I will be soon, just not... yet."

She accepted this readily enough, but after what must have been about eight years of travelling the roads with Pokémon, she'd probably seen enough weirder things than me to fill a book.

The conversation pretty much died there for a while, but in the end, when she stood to go, I blurted out

"Could I see your team?" she looked at me with a quizzical expression. I felt embarrassed again. Oh well. It's not like I'd ever see her again.

"It's just, I want to do well, and if I mess up my team I don't have the excuse of being eleven, and I just thought if I saw a few real teams it could help," as she continued to look at me I ducked my head and muttered "or something."

"I didn't have the excuse of being eleven either, you know" she said after a few moments of silence. "It's not as uncommon as you think, to start late. Come outside, I'll introduce you. I'm Bethany, by the way, thanks for asking" she said with a grin. I ducked my head even more, and followed her up the escalator and outside. She pointed the the Jolteon following loyally behind her.

"This is Jolteon. I've raised him from an Eevee. He was my starter," she bragged, then held up another ball. "This is Markus, my Gyarados. For obvious reasons, I can't really let him out here, but he's usually on my team. And this guy," she gave a rueful smile and let out a tiny Sabaleye that immediately started swinging it's odd head around, looking for something

"I got this guy a month or two back, and I'm training him to be up to the others' level."

She recalled it, and set the three balls back in her belt.

"That's it? You only have three?" if she was offended by the bluntness of my question, she didn't show it.

"The other seven are a bit more temperamental, so I cant really train Sable with them." she brushed her hair over her ear, and set her thin lips in a line. She looked cute when she was annoyed. "He doesn't behave well enough to let him anywhere near the rest of them. Not yet, anyway"

I was left wondering what could be more temperamental than a Gyarados as she kept talking, explaining about how she had left on her journey at thirteen, having finally saved enough money for the Eevee she'd seen for sale. We walked back inside to escape the mild chill, and I was enraptured by some of the tales she'd picked up over her time as a trainer. We were both left laughing at her tale about the Magmar she'd met when she'd spent some time in Kanto.

"...And then," she said, struggling to keep a straight face, "I looked right up at the Officer Jenny and said 'Can I help you officer?'" and with a final snort, we both gave in to a fit of giggling like preschoolers who'd found a wild Wurmple.

After we'd calmed down, she pulled out a PokéNav.

"You have one of these?"

I nod and pull out mine. It was a year or two old, but it's still workable. I'd see about getting a new one when I got back to Littleroot, or when I inevitably reached Rustboro.

"Good,"

Bethany pushed a small button on hers, and my screen lit up, indicating an new contact number.

"Give me a call sometime Luke," she smiled at me "We'll have that warm up battle some day"

Okay, maybe I had a small crush developing for the pretty, slightly older, well travelled girl with the mysterious but no doubt powerful team. So sue me.

I glanced up at the clock, and swore suddenly. Shouting hurried apologies to Bethany, I sprinted out of the centre towards the Van. The pilot was not happy with me. I endured several minutes of shouting about tight schedules before he lapsed into terse silence as he began to lift off. It looked like we'd picked up a smaller batch than I had expected. Two eleven year olds that alternated between whispering excitedly to each other and staring out of the windows in either wonder or horror, and one slightly older boy, probably between twelve or thirteen. He was looking around nervously, clenching a worn-looking Pokéball in his hand. He expanded it, looked at it for a few seconds, then shrunk it again, apparently looking at how the scratches and marks shifted as it changed.

I settled down for a wait. It would be a short while before we arrived in Lilycove, where we would stay overnight. Well, everyone else would be. I would be headed straight for the Safari Zone, and saying there till I had my team.

I let the dreams of what Pokémon I was going to catch fill my mind for the hour flight.

I stayed just long enough to listen to the general safety warning from the pilot. He told everyone they were welcome to stay on the van overnight, or seek accommodations elsewhere, but warned us, with a dirty look at me, to be back on board at 9am _sharp_.

I took off down route 121 at a flat out sprint. Not exactly the wisest move maybe, but I was exited. My dreams had had six years to formulate, and they were all about to come to fruition.

Oo===I===oO

I arrived at the Safari with a painful stitch, out of breath, and with a huge grin on my face. Feeling a momentary flutter of horror, I scrabbled in my pockets for my ticket, finding it tucked into my wallet. The doors open with a pleasant tinkle, causing the man behind the desk to look up. He pulled his legs off the desk and pushed the corner of his magazine's page down.

"Can I help you?"

His words broke me from my temporary reverie, but I still stole glances around at the many curious things that were hung on walls or displayed in cabinets as I walked over to him.

"Do you have a booking, or..?" he asked when I reached the counter. I pulled the ticket back out, and placed it on the table. It suddenly looked very ragged around the edges.

"It's quite old," I rush to explain before he gets any ideas. About what, I didn't exactly know. "But it should still be valid."

The man, David, who was happy to help according to his name tag, took the ticket and scanned it quickly with some hand held device. The screen next to him beeped, and he glanced down, peering at some inscrutable detail. His eyebrows rose slightly as he muttered under his breath,

"That is a lot of extensions..."

He looked back up at me, and gave a short nod to himself, "That's all in order, and assuming you are L. Stoneway, I can welcome to the Safari Zone. Now, before you go rushing off, I need to go over a few things with you."

I nodded, expecting this. You don't keep a huge reserve of wild Pokémon who could all kill a human relatively easily, and just let people wander around without some sort of safety briefing.

"First, how old are you?"

"Seventeen" I reply.

"Okay then. You're over sixteen, so you are allowed nearly unrestricted access to the zone, Zones one through to eight are open to you. You are not, however, allowed in Zone nine or ten. If you are found in either of these Zones, you will immediately be ejected from the Safari, do I make myself clear?"

I nodded. I did NOT want to lose my chance here.

"Now, can I see your badges please?"

"I don't have any. Yet. I don't have any yet." I correct myself at his look. He types some information into his computer.

"Okay then. No badges. I'm afraid that means I'm going to have to insist you stay out of Zones five, six, seven and eight." He notices my expression. "Sorry man. It's for your own protection"

I nod past the hard weight in my stomach. Why did I have a feeling this was going to get worse?

"Can I see your Trainer's License?"

Ah, yeah. There it was.

"I'm sorry," I replied, "I don't have one."

He looked at me with incredulity in his eyes, then made one, rather violent keystroke.

"So, you're only an enthusiast, not a real trainer?" He carried on without waiting for me to answer the question. "In that case, I have to lower the limit on the number of balls we can allow you. Normally it's twenty, but seeing as you're not allowed access to the PC system, I cant let you have the opportunity to carry more than six Pokémon, so I can only let you have up to six balls in total. You must now declare any Pokémon you have on you, so I can take them away from your total. As I'm sure you are aware, carrying more than Six filled balls is a class two League offence, so lying to me now would be a very bad idea."

He looked at me expectantly. I mutely shook my head. He laughed under his breath. "...of course you don't." a little louder, he continued.

"If you have no team to protect you, I'm going to have to ask you to stay out of areas two, three, and five and up. Seeing as you're already prohibited from most of those, that shouldn't effect you too much. Got all that?"

I nod, again. That meant I could go into areas one, right outside of the building, and area four, the area directly to the north.

"Good. Now, just because you can take up to six balls, doesn't mean you have to. How many do you want?"

I look at him in confusion.

"Six, please."

He nods, taps some more on the excessively loud keyboard, and says

"That will be three thousand Zenny then."

My stomach drops. My dreams, already creaking under the burden, come crashing down around me.

_I need to buy the balls too? I don't have any money!_

"How much are the balls individually?"

"Well," He pulled up something on his monitor, "The first five balls come in a bundle for three thousand which also covers one day's worth of emergency rations and the hiring of a distress radio, both of which are mandatory, the next five cost one hundred each, and after that it's fifty each. So, if you were an actual trainer and wanted to take fifteen, that'd be three thousand seven hundred and fifty."

there was no way in hell I could afford any of that. I barely had eighty on me for food.

"Hang on," I said, when one of his words circled back round my head, "You just said it was three thousand for five balls, but a minute ago you said it would cost me three thousand for six?"

He looked at me for a second, then back at his screen. He reached under his desk.

"Your ticket comes with one free ball."

I nodded, and held out my hand

He rolled it over the table at me, then pressed a buzzer to open the doors.

"I'm waiving the food and radio restrictions because you will NOT be leaving areas one or four for ANY reason. Do you understand me?"

One ball.

Well, that's all I'd need, right? Sure, I'd need a bit of luck too, but I can do loads with one ball.

I walked out of the doors into the bright, hot sunlight of the Zone, ignoring the muted mutter of "damned reckless amateur" from behind me. I took a deep breath of the scent filled air. Looking around, I seemed to be in a huge clearing, with a load of thick grass in the middle. I thought I could make out a PokéFeeder in the centre, but I didn't want any of the things that would be here. I wanted the really rare stuff, especially as I only have the one shot. To the north, I could make out a large hill of some sort that should still lie in area 4. I headed towards it, meandering to avoid patches of denser wood and small ponds. I saw quite a few Pokémon, but they were either too far away or not what I wanted.

I could see the hill clearly after half an hour of hard walking. It had some sort of bike track on it. That looked a good a place as any to begin really searching, far enough from the entrance that passive catchers wouldn't have got everything, close enough to the beaten track that there shouldn't be any really aggressive Pokémon roaming free. It took about another half an hour of hiking to get to where a wanted, a sheltered patch of short grass, with a good view of the trees and the long grass nearby.

After only a few minutes of waiting, I saw something worthwhile, a large male Girafarig. It looked to be pretty strong, and a few small scrapes along it's flanks showed it wasn't adverse to battle. While a slightly odd choice, it would certainly do for a good starter. Not many people had psychics right off the bat, and it would give me an easy advantage on any fighting types, which were pretty common.

Mind set, I grabed the lonely ball from my belt, and stood up quickly as soon as it turned away from me. The head on it's tail focused on me, and the Girafarig fled instantly.

Damn.

I settled back down to wait again, resolved to learn from my mistake.

The next hour was pretty boring. Nothing really came near for a while, then anything that did wasn't something I wanted. I looked for anything I could do. My eyes were drawn towards the row of trees to my left. Didn't I see something about this on some TV show a while ago? Bug Pokémon are drawn to tree sap, I remembered, and excitedly rushed over to a good looking tree. Hefting a large rock, I tore a chunk of bark away from the wood, revealing a sticky layer of sweet smelling syrup.

"That's got to work" I muttered to myself.

I tested the wind, determined to make this a perfect catch. It was blowing across the reserve, along the side of the mountain further north. I found a good patch of grass, and sat down to wait, carefully eyeing the path that I thought was most likely for a Pokémon to arrive by.

I didn't have a very long wait, although I would have had a shorter one if I'd been watching the tree instead of the road. I glanced at the tree in question, then froze I registered what I saw. A majestic Pinsir was chewing at the tree. He was a perfect specimen of his kind, stocky and strong looking, with a wickedly sharp looking pair of horns. His eyes were pressed against the tree in his efforts to get at the sap, and the wind wasn't blowing my scent towards him. This would be my best chance.

I brought everything I'd ever been taught about a catch to mind, and stood smoothly, not attracting it's attention. I held the ball loosely in my left hand, and leant forwards, expanding it into it's primed state. I tossed the ball high over my head in the way that had always so annoyed my friends whenever we were practising, catching it with my right hand. I pulled my weight back onto my back leg, and stood tall and balanced on it, the ball held out in front of me.

_Start to lean_, I thought, as I shifted my weight forwards, _then snap out_, and I fell forwards a step, hurling the ball at a place just a few feet in front of the Pinsir so that it would bounce straight at it, just as it always had in the garden I had practised in.

Unfortunately, the Safari Zone was significantly less even than the garden. The ball flew directly to where I wanted it too, then bounced off to the left into a thick patch of long grass. There was a bright flash of light and noise, then nothing.

Completely forgetting about the Pinsir, I sprinted over to where the ball had disappeared. It was rocking back and forth violently, almost flipping right over as whatever I'd caught struggled desperately to break free. After five seconds of this, I was getting worried. After ten, I was seriously alarmed. Nearly thirty seconds of rotations and bounces later, that had transported the ball a good foot away from where it had started, it settled down, rocking gently three times before the ball let out a disappointingly anticlimactic _click_.

I had done it. I had caught a Pokémon.

Oo===I===oO

A great many of thanks to my Beta Reader Thaumologist. Any remaining mistakes are my fault alone.

I haven't got any chapters of this saved up, so updates will likely be slow.


End file.
